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The pain is real.
After reading your posts about feminists and SJWs, at least he has the excuse he’s only a toddler.
After reading your posts about feminists and SJWs, at least he has the excuse he’s only a toddler.
It does have a certain… symbolic resonance. And I was actually impressed by the colour co-ordination.
The empathy is for the parents, right? 🙂
The empathy is for the parents, right? 🙂
Heh. Oh yes.
A few years ago, while child-minding for a friend, a huge strop ensued – we’re talking full-on opera – because an orange was about to be eaten and I’d neglected to search out the correct colour plate. Which is green, apparently. As someone who’s not a parent, the explosion of outrage was a little bewildering.
My nephew could not/would not eat anything for a half hour after seeing a lizard and/or a lizard “seeing” him. This is in south Florida where they are plentiful. And if it was one of the larger ones, iguana or such, katy-bar-the-door.
Son of Pogonip, age 3: flees room screaming, hands over ears, whenever a certain commercial comes on
Son of Pogonip, age 38: has old-commercial sites bookmarked, including several with That Commercial, which he likes
Hey, wow. A tantrum thrown by someone of an appropriate ago, for once.
I see that things are looking up in the UK…
https://www.yahoo.com/news/uks-guardian-daily-goes-tabloid-cut-costs-105223769.html
I see that things are looking up in the UK…
They’ve been haemorrhaging money and spiralling the drain for so long now, it’s practically a tradition.
Though of all the Guardian’s many blunders, my favourite is still the paper’s short-lived brand expansion into the world of trendy Shoreditch coffee shops, which the paper styled as “the future of open journalism,” a supposedly “data-driven” hub of Fair Trade beverages, uncomfortable chairs and online journalistic collaboration, and which opened without wi-fi.
The empathy is for the parents, right? 🙂
As the twig is bent, so grows the tree. I have neither empathy or sympathy for them or the mess they made, unless this is a wake up call for them to start disciplining the little brat, as anathema as that is to most parents today.
…could not/would not eat anything for a half hour after seeing a lizard and/or a lizard “seeing” him.
[ can’t stop laughing ]
I thought ‘shoreditch’ was a British euphemism for ‘shithole’ (receptacle for, as opposed to source of).
And things are still screwed up in the USA…
https://pjmedia.com/trending/perils-postmodern-progressivism/
We see Farnsworth has no kids!
I think listening to a toddler’s tantrum is better than listening to a woman who needs a baby and doesn’t have one (never had any, or they grew up) tell you about her furbabies. That latter is just so sad. All those unloved kids rattling about The System, and all those women overflowing with maternal instinct, but somehow never the twain meet.
And she risks having any parents of screaming toddlers within earshot say “Here, you can have THIS one!” 😄
tell you about her furbabies.
[ Googles ‘furbabies’. ]
Ah. I was afraid it might be some kind of niche doll collection for ladies of a certain age.
We see Farnsworth has no kids!
Children are like kittens, puppies, and antifa, if you let them run amuck, all you get is more of the same.
As far as listening to tantrums it is never acceptable, there is no need, the minute the little SOB starts one, you grab it by the stacking swivel and make it stop. You are the adult, you set the limits, and it will serve the little SOBs in good stead when you send them off to military school or a reformatory as soon as they say their first words.
I suspect Mr Muldoon subscribes to the Nail Some Sense Into ‘Em school of parenting.
I suppose part of a furbaby’s appeal is it’ll never have a public tantrum. Although it may poop on the floor for 15 years if the owner—oops, the mom—never bothers to housebreak it.
I always feel sorry for a furbaby with Mommy hovering over it. Poor critter always looks like it would rather be elsewhere.
https://totalsororitymove.com/nothing-ruins-a-relationship-faster-than-a-closeup-butthole-pic/
David, this site should provide you with material until at least August.
That kid reminded me of something, now what was . . . ok, I remember:
I suspect Mr Muldoon subscribes to the Nail Some Sense Into ‘Em school of parenting.
I subscribe to the old fashioned school of parents acting like adults and not pals or facilitators of young Snotley “finding himself”. The reason we have a world littered with the type of riff raff these pages tend to be about is the result of a couple of generations of sprog who were never told “No”, or held accountable in anyway for their behavior. Interestingly enough, having been to many shitholes around the world, this sort of nonsense is definitely a first world problem.
Contrary to popular belief and anything the leftists spout, kids actually want guidance from adults. OK at least till puberty when hormones make their brains cease functioning and at which time they should be put in cold storage till age 18.
Try this: the next time you are in a public space, and someone’s young Pyorrhea is acting a fool, just look at it, summon your best command voice and just say “Knock It Off”, (for some reason they don’t seem to get “At Ease”). You’ll be amazed at how quickly they tend to fall in line, though be prepared for a huff from the lost in the sauce parent-in-name only which, frankly, is also fun.
I subscribe to the old fashioned school of parents acting like adults and not pals or facilitators
I’m not unsympathetic.
David, this site should provide you with material until at least August.
I feel a need to bathe.
Well, Everyday Feminism can’t furnish ALL the material!
OT:
I only have a vague idea of who Aziz Ansari is, only knowing him from a bit part in the movie Observe and Report, in what now turns out to be something of an ironic role. And I confess I have not read the original of the article that is said to have shot down the actor-comedian’s career in flames.
But what I do find fascinating is that this article here not only appeared in The Atlantic, but was written by someone who is “a contributing editor” and so presumably cannot be dismissed as one of those ‘alternative viewpoint’ voices, but to some extent is endorsed by the magazine’s editorial board.
If you have a moment to spare, I would recommend reading it in full. The fact that this came from the The Atlantic feels like some kind of premonition that a sea change is on the horizon and suggests that any momentum that the #MeToo ‘movement’ may have gathered to date is about to falter, stall, and halt – and much, much sooner than others have predicted.
[ … ] Eventually, overcome by her emotions at the way the night was going, she told him, “You guys are all the fucking same,” and left crying. I thought it was the most significant line in the story: This has happened to her many times before. What led her to believe that this time would be different?
I was a teenager in the late 1970s … the magazines and advice books and novels that I devoured …. were still filled with the cautionary advice and moralistic codes of the ’50s. With the exception of the explicit physical details, stories like Grace’s—which usually appeared in the form of “as told to,” … —were so common as to be almost regular features … . In fact, the bitterly disappointed girl crying in a taxi muttering “They’re all the same” was almost a trope. Make a few changes to Grace’s story and it would fit right into the narrative of those books and magazines, which would have dissected what happened to her in a pitiless way.
When she saw Ansari at the party, she was excited by his celebrity—“Grace said it was surreal to be meeting up with Ansari, a successful comedian and major celebrity”—which the magazines would have told us was shallow; he brushed her off, but she kept after him, which they would have called desperate; doing so meant ignoring her actual date of the evening, which they would have called cruel. Agreeing to meet at his apartment—instead of expecting him to come to her place to pick her up—they would have called unwise; ditto drinking with him alone. Drinking, we were told, could lead to a girl’s getting “carried away,” which was the way female sexual desire was always characterized in these things—as in, “She got carried away the night of the prom.” As for what happened sexually, the writers would have blamed her completely: What was she thinking, getting drunk with an older man she hardly knew, after revealing her eagerness to get close to him? The signal rule about dating, from its inception in the 1920s to right around the time of the Falklands war, was that if anything bad happened to a girl on a date, it was her fault [ … ]
Perhaps she hoped to maybe even become the famous man’s girlfriend. He wasn’t interested. What she felt afterward—rejected yet another time, by yet another man—was regret. And what she and the writer who told her story created was 3,000 words of revenge porn … Togethe[r], the two women may have destroyed Ansari’s career, which is now the punishment for every kind of male sexual misconduct, from the grotesque to the disappointing.
I just typed a long remark that vanished; David, can you retrieve and post it?
David, can you retrieve and post it?
There’s nothing in the spam filter. Probably an idea to draft long comments in Outlook or OneNote or something before posting.
Unfortunately, I typed it on a phone, so I guess that particular bit of my wisdom is lost to the masses.
Farnsworth,
Try this: the next time you are in a public space, and someone’s young Pyorrhea is acting a fool, just look at it, summon your best command voice and just say “Knock It Off”…
When a friend of mine was little, his mother wouldn’t get military with him, she’d embarrass the hell out of him. I met her once, and she had just the weird sense of humor to pull it off. Cured him of public tantrums right quick.
(It did leave him with an odd little “phobia” about supermarkets, though. I’ve never seen anyone “shop” so quickly.)
I’m with Farnsworth on this one. It’s why supermarkets always stock the chocolates at the checkout. Kid sees one, cracks a tanty, mum in all her flusteredness succumbs to the demand and purchases the goods. A firm voice and icy stare are all that is required.
As an aside Mr Thompson, will this fine establishment be selling this drop?
https://www.stompingground.beer/pridelweiss/
I was afraid it might be some kind of niche doll collection for ladies of a certain age.
That’s not an inaccurate description, actually.
summon your best command voice and just say “Knock It Off”
I have a pair of friends who appear to have outsourced the disciplining of their 11-year-old to me for precisely this reason. The little hellion at least shows me respect, if not the parents.
The child may only be faking death, but in that outfit, actual death would be more merciful.
When it comes to public tantrums of toddlers, it behooves the parent to pick their battles & tactics.
1) toddler feels they have ‘won’ if parent over-reacts, especially out of public humiliation
2) if child is doing the limpfish protest on aisle 2, silently, parent quickly moves to aisle 3 — no audience, no reaction, toddler gets up and scurries to follow
3) if child starts loud whinging, immediately … IMMEDIATELY… and with calm deliberation … remove child from premises. Again, no audience, no reaction, no humiliation of parent and, more importantly, no X that would have been bought & brought home.
4) know your toddler, don’t take them anywhere when they are tired/hungry/cranky … that’s just asking for issues.
I’ve raised 4 daughters and I also have had no troubles with grandkid tantrums either.
Re Aziz Ansari
Original Revenge of the Disappointed here
My own article on baby Grace here.
Darleen,
3) if child starts loud whinging, immediately … IMMEDIATELY… and with calm deliberation … remove child from premises.
My parents’ favorite tactic – even in restaurants, especially in restaurants: we’d all go home. My brother and I learned to mind our manners, even if we didn’t like what was on the menu. A stern glare from Dad was enough.
we’d all go home.
Yep, my parents & grandparents were exactly the same about that, too.
As an aside Mr Thompson, will this fine establishment be selling this drop?
No mortal force could make me buy ostentatiously gay beer. And based on the advertising, I assume it tastes like minge.
“He ignored clear non-verbal cues…”
No, he didn’t. He interpreted the naked lady going down on him pretty much the way anyone would.
Now here’s a lady who knows exactly what she wants—more Tetris!
http://mysteriousuniverse.org/2018/01/woman-wants-to-marry-tetris-after-relationship-with-calculator-went-sour/
2) if child is doing the limpfish protest on aisle 2, silently, parent quickly moves to aisle 3 — no audience, no reaction, toddler gets up and scurries to follow
No, that just leaves a mess everyone else in that aisle has to contend with, thanks a lot.
3) if child starts loud whinging, immediately … IMMEDIATELY… and with calm deliberation … remove child from premises.
No, then young Miss Taenia or Master Lues has succeeded in ruining what ever it is you were doing.
4) know your toddler, don’t take them anywhere when they are tired/hungry/cranky … that’s just asking for issues.
You should have stopped at “don’t take them anywhere”, that is why sitters were invented.
1) toddler feels they have ‘won’ if parent over-reacts, especially out of public humiliation
The parent wouldn’t be publicly humiliated if he or she disciplined little Scrofula at home. I know, it is a radical concept. The answer is what worked from the dawn of time till the dark ages of 30-40 years ago, namely teach the little SOBs that unacceptable behavior will be dealt with swift and certain punishment to fit the offense, and none of this time-out BS.
No, then young Miss Taenia or Master Lues has succeeded in ruining what ever it is you were doing.
Actually not at all. The toddler is not getting what he/she wants and that is an audience to the tantrum that clearly embarrasses mom/dad. Stuff like that happened only maybe once and I was always able to take my kids with me shopping. Even in situations of having 3 under the age of 4, they never acted up at the store. My plans for shopping were never ‘ruined’.
As young teens, I ‘retired’ from doing their laundry once they were old enough to reach the knobs on the washing machine. That stopped all sorts of whining (I had all girls) about “how come my favorite blouse isn’t clean?” When it came to back-to-school clothes, as young teens, I gave them a certain amount of cash, told them that was all they got until Christmas presents then took them as a group to the mall and said “call me when you’re done & I’ll pick you up.”
They grew up to know how to shop and be wise about budgeting.
Raising kids isn’t just about direct lecturing, but putting themselves into situations where the lessons of the direct consequences of their own actions is evident.
I ‘retired’ from doing their laundry once they were old enough to reach the knobs on the washing machine.
I know of young adults who, while almost old enough to drive, regarded the washing machine, and iron, and cooker, as alien technology.
Actually not at all. The toddler is not getting what he/she wants and that is an audience to the tantrum that clearly embarrasses mom/dad.
If you had to stop whatever you were doing to remove young Otitis from the store, restaurant, or whatever, it most certainly ruined your plans (not to mention the experience of everyone within sight or earshot). That it happened to you maybe once is attributable either to luck and/or kids who were slightly above average on the uptake.
Raising kids isn’t just about direct lecturing…
Of course it isn’t, kittens, puppies, and gnats all have longer attention spans, but why actual punishment is seems to be anathema remains a mystery. Find someone who can get you into a PX/BX/NEX/Commissary and compare the rate of bratty behavior to any civilian equivalent, and ask why the rate is so much lower in the former. The simple answer is one or more parents that understand the concept of discipline.
I know of young adults who, while almost old enough to drive, regarded the washing machine, and iron, and cooker, as alien technology.
The greatest anti-theft device, at least in the US&A, you can have on a car is a manual transmission.
more Tetris
I wonder what the children will look like…
Given the pictures, I can kind of understand her situation. I’ll be catty here: her chances are better with an inanimate object than with the vast majority of men. Women with mustaches only appeal to a very small sub-set of humanity.
I’m sort of with Farnsworth. I like my own kids, and they were (and continue to be) remarkably well-behaved in public, probably because their mother and I demonstrated early on an unwillingness to tolerate misbehavior. I like to think we also modeled correct behavior, to the point where we’d receive numerous comments from wait-staff at restaurants about how well-behaved and polite our kids were.
Nonetheless, my tolerance for other people’s children is very, very low to the point where I’d refuse to socialize with people whose children acted-up. And woe to parents who let their children misbehave at my house. They became personae non gratae at Chez Sherman very quickly.
I prefer the Tetris lady to Grace, who is incapable of thinking on her own; she has to wait for her girlfriends to tell her whether her date’s conduct was acceptable and whether she should make a fuss (no and yes). The Tetris lady, however eccentric she may be, thinks for herself and is bothering no one.
Completely OT, but Tim Newman – scourge of polyamory and a fine blogger – has published his novel:
http://www.desertsun.co.uk/books/
Tim Newman – scourge of polyamory and a fine blogger – has published his novel
‘Bout bloody time. Have the heathen rabble figured out what the ‘B’ is for yet?
Have the heathen rabble figured out what the ‘B’ is for yet?
Beauregard.
If you laugh, you’re a terrible, terrible person.
I’m a terrible, terrible person.
And proud of it!
…[I]f you don’t want sex on the first date, don’t go back to the guy’s apartment, get naked, and engage in fellatio.
From the catalog of “Darleen Click’s 21st Century Greet Cards.”
You know, I reread that, and unless I missed it twice, at no point beforehand did it occur to her to say “No, thank you” or “ I don’t want to do this” or even “ Please put your clothes on if you want me to stay.” She mentions backing away from him, with him following, all over the room, like you do with that annoying person who stands too close—and it worked about as well as it does with the annoying person—but not until the end of the festivities does she say anything.
Don’t the parents of these girls teach them to say “No, thank you”? They should. I was a teenager in the ‘70’s, when everybody pretended girls and boys are the same. This being the case, it was impossible to explain to a teenage boy that you don’t want sex—teenage boys literally cannot imagine such a thing, and since the girl is just like a boy… Civilized societies have kept the teenage sexes apart or chaperoned, but in ‘70’s America, the only way out was to keep repeating, “No, thank you” until he gave up and took you home or kicked you out of his car, which was where the mad money came in handy. And it’s only got worse since then.
I was a teenager in the ‘70’s, when everybody pretended girls and boys are the same. This being the case, it was impossible to explain to a teenage boy that you don’t want sex—teenage boys literally cannot imagine such a thing…
Um, I was a teenager in the ’70’s, too. I got the message pretty emphatically actually. Of course, I had the benefit of multiple etiquette books about things like dating, which fork to use, girls, how to greet people senior to you in age or dating, dating, general deportment, girls, girls’ fathers and other assorted topics.
Then I attended Mizzou, back when it was a decent university–Latin motto at the time: In Beero Veritas–and things sort of evened themselves out.
Lucky you. Books were not a big thing where I went to high school.
Moving on—David, what about the blowtorch? Does it work?
R., Rod Dreher at amconmag.com writes about Mizzou all the time, if you are interested. I was sure there was a University of Missouri just like there was a University of every other state, but had no idea Mizzou was such a Thing till Rod started on the topic and would get lots of comments about it.
I used to live near notorious Antioch College, in lovely Yellow Springs, Ohio. Yellow Springs is, so to speak, a trip. All the clocks in Yellow Springs stopped in 1967, and they like it that way.
All the clocks in Yellow Springs stopped in 1967, and they like it that way.
Sounds like Berkeley.
what about the blowtorch? Does it work?
I can see it from here but it’s yet to be used. You can imagine the suspense.
‘Bout bloody time.
It’ll be interesting to see if anyone spots how much of it has been cribbed from the comments section of this ‘ere blog. I had to ask at least two people for permission to use their material…
Heh.
A few years back, I was on a long flight in a seat immediately ahead of a young child who insisted on kicking my chair repeatedly. Upon realizing that the kicking was not likely to stop of its own accord, nor through any intervention on the part of the “parent,” I turned around and politely said, “Young man, please stop kicking my seat.”
When the kicking resumed a few minutes later, I turned again, and with a bit more force said, “Young man, I’ve asked you nicely once already. Stop kicking my seat.” This time, I had several minutes of peace, before the lovely urchin became “kicky” once again.
As I had run through most of my patience at this point, my third reply was fairly curt: “Kid, knock it off!” His mother made the effort to lower her magazine and glare at me. I was happy to return the favor.
On the next iteration, I broke out the phrase I learned from my father when I first wandered into the adult world. “Lady, one of us needs to smack your kid!”
The anger and contempt I got from the look on her face might have cowed a lesser man. Fortunately, I was buoyed by the supportive laughter of the other travelers around us.
The story has a happy ending: the FA wisely intervened and moved the young family to the back of the plane, where there were plenty of empty seats that the delightful child could kick to his heart’s content. I read a few pages of my book and then dozed most of the way to Atlanta.
Also, my lovely bride and I have our own little term of affection for screaming toddlers: aural birth control.